


Watching You

by saphique



Category: Holby City
Genre: Bernie speaking about her arousal, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, Porn with Feelings, Post-Elinor, Serena is back with grey hair, happy to be together again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-01-29 20:51:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12638925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saphique/pseuds/saphique
Summary: Unaccustomed to talk about her desires, Bernie tries to confess how much she likes to watch Serena."I like to admire you, like this." Bernie's eyes are serious yet tender, as if to elucidate that the words meant more. Serena does not move, simply smiles from all the affection reflected in them.





	1. Confession

**Author's Note:**

> Some Berena loving.  
> My muse kept me from updating all of my other fanfictions because she insisted on delivering this piece.  
> I post this first chapter while I am translating the second.  
> It's non-betaed [I'm too shy and afraid of disturbing to ask for one], if you spot mistakes I will kindly correct them. I'm sorry for possible Americanisms, since English isn't my first language, it is difficult for me to spot the difference in US and UK words.

Serena is sitting up on the covers in the bed, her back propped on a pillow. Working with her laptop on her thighs, she is focused on the task of writing reports and does not entirely notice Bernie staring at her. Bernie is lying on her side, body slipped under the covers with a neglected book lying somewhere on the bed. Her head is positioned closely to Serena's hips. It has been close to an hour of them like this, Bernie content in admiring Serena wearing only a pair of black panties and an old worn-out loose t-shirt she occasionally uses as a pyjama.

With tired eyes, Serena lets out a yawn and it seems to bring her back to the reality of them together, in bed. Angling her head on the side, Serena looks down at Bernie.

"I'm sorry, just a few things to clarify in this report and then its lights off, promise." Serena comments tenderly.

"No, it's okay. Take your time. I'm not complaining." Bernie reassures, cuddling a little, staring from below.

Bernie still isn't used to all the joy from being reunited, how reassuring it is to concretely see and feel Serena, being able to talk to her, to touch her. No more avoidance, no more holding back. They made a promise to be honest to themselves, to be true to their self and constantly enjoy the time they have together.

Since Serena's return, they both understood that difficult and open discussions were in order. They spoke about everything they've been avoiding. There were cries, anger, embraces and forgiveness. Elinor can be named - not too often - without inducing distress. While Serena was away, she asked Bernie if she could take care of the house. With her permission, she made minor changes here and there, like repainting, alter some disposition and renew some furniture, as to evoke a novelty in a familiar territory.

Lost in her thoughts, Bernie hums as she recalls fond memories of their reunion, in this bed.

Serena puts away the laptop, bends over to turn off the switch on the lamp, but Bernie stops her from doing so by gently holding out her hand, stroking Serena's lower back through the fabric. Serena sits back and looks at her questionably.

"No, leave the lights on…pl-please." she pleas softly. Serena's eyebrows rise up from amusement.  

"I like to admire you, like this." Bernie's eyes are serious yet tender, as if to elucidate that the words meant more. Serena does not move, simply smiles from all the affection reflected in them.

Worried about her own unveiling, unsure on how to go about it, Bernie tries humour as a starter.

"I should have been an artist, I could draw a picture of you by heart." Even though its meant as a compliment, Serena cannot contain a laughter from arising.

"Not with the way you draw, Major!" The giggles Serena lets out are making the mattress move and Bernie participates in the wave of happiness with her honking laughter.

 _When you were in France, I tried to remind myself of every aspect of you, all the time, just like I did when I was in Ukraine_. This, Bernie will confess but not right now.

Unaccustomed to openly declare her feelings, but encouraged by the domesticity of the moment and invigorated by their trustworthiness, Bernie surprises herself with her upcoming boldness.

"I, um, sometimes I…" something in Bernie freezes, as she is suddenly being strongly affected by the thoughts and pictures surging in her mind. Gathering her courage, reassured by the peacefulness of Serena's breathing above her, Bernie simply let the words flow.

"I often fantasize about you. I… I like looking at you…" she finally manages to admit, slightly shy. She does not know how to continue this, how to formulate her desires towards Serena, how to communicate her admiration, or more specifically, her arousal.

Delighted to hear such a confession, Serena slowly licks her lower lip and stares at Bernie through her lowered eyelids.

"You do?" Serena does not really ask; her tone simply states it, as if she'd like Bernie to repeat it. Her voice is intoxicatingly low and unhurried. To ease an answer out of Bernie, Serena begins to stroke Bernie's neck with the back of a finger. She can feel Bernie fidget, already stirred under Serena's care.

"Tell me more, darling." she encourages. The light from the lamp on the nightstand enlightens Serena's silver hair and contours her silhouette perfectly. Serena is still sitting up while Bernie is lying down.

Bernie needs to swallow a few times before being able to speak again, as her whole body already starts to react to Serena's touch. Her distinct sent, the teasing in her fingers, her mischievous stare, her incredibly seductive mouth. She feels hot under the covers, but does not think of removing them. She begins to speak, still a little hesitant, shyness beginning to hide behind assurance.

"I like to picture you, to remember the shape of your figure. How your body moves when you laugh, how it reacts to coffee, or wine." Bernie smiles, settles herself more comfortably before ongoing.

"I love to see you here, in-in our bed." Bernie blushes as Serena looks smug.

"This…this t-shirt, I...," she gulps "I love how it reveals the shape of your breasts, how the clothing fall on them, how it molds to you." As to demonstrate the truth of her words, Bernie's eyes fall on Serena's prominent breasts and the gorgeous shadows of her nipples. Noting this, Serena gently strokes the tip of her fingers along her own sternum. The gesture moves the fabric a little, revealing more of the shape of her breasts. Serena is proud of herself, smiles even more than Bernie does.

Bernie swallows again, tries to continue as her concentration fails.

"I…love to," this begins to be more difficult to express, Bernie needs to close her eyes in order to plunge into the heart of her daydreams, "picture the features of your face when…when you, the sobs you let out, the-those whimpers when you…" unable to finish her sentence, Bernie sighs as a heatwave seize her body.

Noting that Bernie needs a moment to regather, Serena takes this opportunity to moan out loud as her finger strokes her nipple through the fabric of the t-shirt. The sound instantly captures the blonde's attention. Her eyes open wide at the surprise. Serena's palm is caressing the other breast, gently adding pressure and squeezing. Serena's movements are forming captivating shadows on the wall behind them. Bernie thinks she could stare at Serena for all eternity.

Bernie is so deeply grateful for this freedom, this immeasurable trust between them, all due to Serena's ability and ease at being always playful and permissive.

"You are so beautiful, Serena…" her words fade in the air, transforming into breaths. Serena continues to stroke her own breasts, making Bernie envious. They have never done this before, one of them being on display for the other. Bernie takes a chance, decides to keep talking.

"God, I always wonder what you look like when…" she moans at her last words "when you touch yourself…" she inquires, out of breath, practically panting.    

Her eyes are gleaming, a plea on the surface, wanting to be sure Serena is comfortable with where this is going. But Bernie never expected the conversation to shift the way it does when Serena begins to talk.    

"And when you think of me this way, do you touch yourself, Bernie?"

Although she initiated this, Bernie feels like she has been caught. She will always be fascinated by her instant reactions to Serena's smoky voice. The brunette always manages to word out her desires steadily and seductively. Not being able to answer as effectively as Serena, Bernie only mumbles.

"Not…not necessarily... I, sometimes I have these thoughts at work, so I-I can't…" Bernie is burning up under the covers from embarrassment and excitement as her head starts to spin from Serena's inquisitorial stare.

"Oh, really? And does it make you wet? At work?"

When the answer is nothing else but raw desire in Bernie's eyes, Serena groans.

"Oh, Bernie. Are you wet, right now?"

Still sitting at Bernie's side, her hips touching her lover's arms, Serena smirks at the position they are in. She could literally launch herself on Bernie's wonderful body, lie on top of her at this instant. Serena feels playfully powerful, following Bernie's revelation.

"Yes." she murmurs.

Bernie's forthright answer astonishes both of them. The three-letter word loudly echoes in the room, like a chant, an invitation.


	2. Discussion

And Bernie sees it. The bright glint sparkling in Serena's dark eyes. A gentle and challenging vision. A pause allows Bernie to stare at Serena's chest once one, admiring the rise and descent of her breasts following her ragged breathing and the fingers that play there.   

A soft purr is Serena's response, as she slowly removes her fingers from her breasts and sets her hands to her side in order to transfer her weight as she softly slides down on the sheets. Serena is lying down beside Bernie, looking towards her, but she is still holding herself up on one elbow to have a better view of the gorgeous blonde. Purring once more, Serena bends down to kiss her.

A few quick kisses on the lips, its obvious Serena is holding back. Becoming more and more excited with anticipation, Bernie opens her mouth with the intention of caressing Serena's tongue with hers. As they do, Bernie whimpers between delectable wet strokes.

As the kisses halt, Serena withdraws with pink cheeks and a promising smile. And then she notices Bernie's suppliant, shining eyes. Her breathing is uneven and she bites her own lips, as if to prolong an imaginary kissing. She can still taste Serena.

Without preamble, Serena extends her arm and hides it underneath the covers. The heat she discovers there makes her laugh in delight. An impressive warmth has been emanating from Bernie, who is naked apart from her panties. With Bernie's permission, Serena lets her hand slither from Bernie's incredibly warm chest and stomach, alternating between palm kneads and tip of finger caresses. Until she reaches the beginning of her panties and touches her where she shivers the most. The fabric is damp and it makes Serena moan.

"Oh, my dear Bernie…indeed you are dripping." Serena's satisfied voice hits Bernie like a burning wave of electricity. But Bernie certainly does not close her eyes, not even while moaning. She wants to watch Serena, as confessed earlier, which means she could admire her for eternity, no matter what plans Serena has in store for them. They are now staring into each other's eyes, their breaths becoming hastier.

"My dear Bernie, would you kindly stay still while I offer myself in display? I promise you'll be entertained." Serena proposes, more confident than she has ever been, using her mischievous tone of voice as her trademark. She even winks. She _winks_. The small droplets of perspiration accumulating at the base of her nape are sending off pheromones into the atmosphere, mixing with their respective scent. It drives Bernie crazy, she can _feel_ Serena everywhere in her surroundings. Offering a reply to Serena is a hazardous journey.

"S-Se-Serena, thank you, b-but," she attempts to say but her throat is try, she tries again after swallowing, "just to b-be clear, you don't have to put on a show. Just, um, just do as you do…". Watching Serena without looking away is now torturous, since coyness decides to revisit. Through arousal and uneasiness, Bernie isn't sure if her sentence is completed, if Serena understood the meaning of her request. Most of all, she wants Serena to be at ease.

After interminable seconds of neither of them moving or replying, Bernie thinks her clumsiness might have broken them out of their little reverie, sending them straight into the cold present of the lateness of this evening. She should have remained silent and accept what Serena was willing to offer, it’s the initial plan after all, even if it includes an orchestrated spectacle. Bernie is about to apologize for being insensitive when Serena offers a response.

"Are you sure you'd fancy that? It… it may come out as boring." Serena sounds unsure, even unwilling. Her suddenly stiff posture speaks for itself. "You know, when I'm by myself, I'm not very, how can I put it, attractive? What if I disappoint you?".

The whole room becomes abruptly quiet, in contrast to Serena's words that sound painfully loud in Bernie's ears, as if their connotation incarnates the most ludicrous and offensive thing she ever heard. It pains Bernie, who remains frozen on the spot, troubled by Serena's insecurities. How can Serena think such a thing about herself, about them? The pitiful reassurance approach will only sadden them both - maybe that self-doubt has something to do with Elinor - , so Bernie opts for a more joyful comforting that reflects the arousal that has been building up between them.

"Now, now, Campbell… that is impossible," she mentions with all the seriousness in her voice but with all the love in her eyes. "Utterly impossible," she continues as the stare intensifies, "because you make me lose my mind."

Relieved, Serena offers her greatest smile, the very same one presented on the theatre floor, that day of their first kiss. The one where Bernie has the impression of being the center of the universe, possessing all the world's strength to protect and cherish Serena.

Following this, Bernie forgets all about staying still. With agility, freeing her body from the covers, Bernie settles over on Serena's body, places kisses all over her face - her chin, her forehead, her nose, her cheeks. The dozens and dozens of kisses are making Serena giggle and regather her confidence.

"Good lord, Serena, how could you possibly think that you could be boring to me?" Her rhetorical question is followed by the deepening of their kisses. Wet noises are participating, quick moans are adding up, teeth are accidentally bumping. Bernie's slender fingers are caressing Serena's t-shirt over her stomach. That's when Serena urgently places her hand over hers and leads them to her nipples through the fabric. The delectable feeling of cupping Serena's breasts is making Bernie dizzy, she needs to stop for a second as the room seems to be spinning. Bernie groans and stares down hungrily at Serena.

"It's true, when I say th-that I love to watch you. I memorialize every detail. W-when you are not around, I like to revisit my memories of you, I never fantasize about something that is not a part of you." They kiss again, tenderly. Serena holds Bernie's hair out of the way as their conversation continue.

"But don't worry, you don't…have to, um, I mean, I'll love anything that you wish to share…" Bernie tentatively adds. Serena's smug is back, as well as her naughty way of wriggling her hips beneath Bernie. Without even thinking about it, Bernie's fingers resume their task of cupping Serena through her clothes, making her squirm.

"Alright, alright, … I'd, I'd love to try. You are going to watch, but not going to participate, yes?" Serena blushes, getting more and more turned on as she admires Bernie cupping her breasts, thinking about what is going to happen.  

"Okay." Bernie replies calmly, trying to act innocent, as if they are not talking about masturbation, exhibitionism and voyeurism altogether. She feels hectic, all her senses stimulated. Bernie's breathing comes out in long, deep expiration. It reminds Serena of these morning when she is back from her running, all sweaty and out of breath.

"Bernie, you won't be able to make it through without having your hands down your pants." Serena dares to say. Her complacency is definitively back and it makes Bernie wetter between her thighs.

Bernie alternates from bursting out in laughter, acquiescing because Serena is probably right and tries to stop herself from kissing Serena with passion.

"Now budge up, Major. You might as well know that I like to use the whole bed when I get off."

 


	3. Action

Taken aback, a few seconds are necessary for Bernie to indeed budge up, to back away a little following Serena's instructions. Accommodating, Bernie lies at Serena's side at the edge of the bed, allowing the brunette to take as much space as needed. Her body is unexpectedly cold, disconnected from Serena's. Bernie's expression would like to send out multiple emotions at once, such as fascination, appreciation and anticipation… also wonder and hunger. To tell the truth, she is also nervous, given that it's the first time they play out like this. Nevertheless, she feels excited, carefree and trusted.

Serena positions her pillow restfully under her head, makes sure its fluffy enough to bury her face in it, when time comes.

How Bernie loves this new portrait of the silver hair on their pillowcase. It represents numerous symbolism: a fresh beginning, the end of a sombre period, a transformation in continuity.

Serena settles more comfortably under the blanket. She makes sure her legs and hips are covered, while her t-shirt is exposed to Bernie's sight. She even pulls at it a little so it could advantageously reveal the shape of her breasts. A distinct whimper can be overheard at her side and it makes Serena grin. She peeks at Bernie.

The grin on Serena's face only widens when she asks "Ready, Major?".

The so-called-Major has the impression of looking like a useless statue, completely at the mercy of the spectacle before her. All her strength and audacity are buried into her lower stomach, where _want_ and _desire_ are pooling. She can't even bring herself to nod or answer. Bernie wishes she could communicate her happiness and arousal through her eyes. Maybe she does accomplish this because Serena's grin turns into a warm smile, full of expectation. They are even trembling a little and their heartfelt shivers respond to each other's.

The warming silence does not last, since abruptly Serena bursts out in giggles even though she tries to remain serious at once. It is the nervousness getting out of her system. She hides her face into palm of her hand, not successfully concealing neither her contagious smile nor the pronounced crow feet shaped by her joyful eyes. 

Bernie is in awe and also chuckles in return. As usual, the honk reappears. Both women feel marvellous in their truthful and unstinting cocoon, the atmosphere is a mixture of sweet and salt, of heartbeats and warm breaths.

"Okay, okay, I'm doing this." Serena manages to say through the giggles as she settles once more in the position she prefers. She stares at the celling before closing her eyes. A few coughs to clear out her throat.

"Actually darling, would you fetch me a glass of water?" she softly asks Bernie without opening her eyes, as if she was trying to concentrate on something within herself, her lips in the shape of a smirk.

Again, a few seconds are necessary for Bernie to react. She snaps out of her reverie, and gets in action.

"Yes, of-of course, I'll be right back." she answers kindly, as she gets off the bed, fumbles in clothes to fetch out her dressing gown. It feels awkward to stand up in this state of arousal but its worth every effort. Her hands tremble - her hands never shake, she is surgeon! - as she ties a knot around her waist.

"I'll be waiting." Serena comments, a dare in her voice. Bernie almost trips over in her steps.

She clumsily opens the door and immediately closes it behind her, and is shocked by the darkness of the hallway, since the smooth light in their bedroom is the only lighting around. Bernie tip-toes in the corridor, makes sure Jason's door is properly closed.

In the bathroom, as she fills the glass of water, Bernie's mind is filled with too much of everything - exchanged moans, visions of Serena, pictures of her brilliant eyes, the delicious taste of her cyprine, the hypnotizing undulation of her hips.

The water overflows the glass and its coldness spills on Bernie's hand.

"Pull yourself together, Wolfe!" she advises herself while drying her hand on the towel.    

The walk back to the room takes forever, to Bernie's liking. As she opens the door, Bernie is submerged by a stimulating warmth that hits her directly in her lower abdomen. Quickly closing the door, its only when she turns around and looks at the bed that Bernie understands why the air is casting an enchanting spell on her.

Serena is already touching herself, discreetly, eyes shut, mouth partly open. Apparently, she couldn't wait.

Bernie stops on the spot. Taken aback by the striking sight taking place in their bedroom, Bernie's army reflexes are the only thing stopping her from dropping the glass on the floor.

Her lungs are burning, her breathing becomes hurried and her shoulders heavier. What should she do? Stay there? Lie down beside Serena? Disturb Serena to hand her the glass of water? Touch herself in unison to Serena's movements?

Bernie's ears are buzzing each time Serena lets out barely noticeable (but so enthralling) little sobs of pleasure. Her lower-body is covered by the blanket, but Bernie can still catch sight of Serena's hand between her legs. The rotations she makes are creating shadows in the blanket. Serena is almost motionless except from that hand forming short and fast circles on her vulva.

Slowly regaining the ability to walk, Bernie takes a few steps, putting down the glass of water on the nightstand at her side of the bed and removes her nightgown. Nothing in the whole world would distract her from this splendid display. The blonde carefully lies down, slips under the blanket and is thrilled by the heat coming out from underneath. Serena has her face turned on her side, away from Bernie, who can see the tension in her jaw, the roundness of her cheek, the sobs slipping out from her beautiful lips. Her eyes are still firmly shut, to maintain her concentration.

The hand pressing and circling Serena's centre is mesmerizing Bernie to the point of madness, until Serena's other hand reaches her breasts and starts cupping them one at a time through the fabric, as if the hand wishes to grope them both at once. The longing shown in these strokes nearly drives Bernie over the edge. She lets out an uncontrolled groan and it captures Serena's attention.

The brunette turns her head back in Bernie's direction, but hides it in the softness of the pillow. The circling of her hands becomes more rapid, desperate, and Serena's sobs turn into whimpers. The entire room disappears as Bernie's heart races rapidly, as her head spins, as she feels herself getting wetter and wetter.

Suddenly, Serena's hand interrupts its dance while she gently pushes aside her panties, curves her legs and resume her actions but with a pumping movement as she eagerly pushes two fingers into herself. As she does, she starts to moan and shudder and grope her breast with more avidity.

Unrestrained, Bernie is panting. She brings her fingers to her own lips, wanting to feel moisture on them, needing to occupy her mouth. Usually, when Bernie witnesses Serena's pleasure, its because she is the one between those stunning thighs.

Serena humps down on her hand and wet noises are tantalizing Bernie's senses. Serena's face is focused, intense, almost grimacing from pleasure. In sympathy, Bernie growls before rubbing her head on her pillow, unconsciously imitating a cat purring on an adored object. Her body naturally starts to leisurely rock back and forth, as if she could take part in Serena's pleasure. Bernie feels herself stare, incapable of looking away. She wants to watch everything, wishes to absorb each parcel of perspiration, to devour each muffled whimper, to collect every tremor, to lap at her juices. How she adores Serena, how she treasures her. Her stare intensifies, as if it could spellbind Serena and shelter her from any discomfort, any apprehension, urging her to continue, to satisfy herself over and over.

"Oh, Serena…" Bernie chants, not recognizing her own hoarse voice, the last time she spoke feels like an eternity ago.

Following Bernie's words, Serena halts the thrusting and recommences the circling on her clitoris in frantic waves. The notion of it, the _knowing_ of it, makes Bernie squirm. The blonde's thighs are forcefully pressed together as Serena's hand continues to fervently rub her clitoris from under the sheets. Serena's increasing sobs reverberates in Bernie's chest. Forever Bernie will keep this moment secured in her heart

"Oh…oh…Oooh..." The agitated hand groping her breast is now grabbing the sheets, trying to hold down on anything, anything it can get a hold of. Serena feels herself fall, elevate, coil, tense as the energy of the whole universe, all gravitation force, are centralized on her bundle of nerves.

It happens, with as a warning a drawn-out whimper of deliverance. Serena stretches her legs, her toes go numb as her orgasm surges, flows in her body, tightens in her abdomen, flutters again and again until she is spent.

On the walls resonates the echoes of exhausted, contented panting. Emerging from afar, Serena opens her delighted eyes, revealing shadows of satisfaction. Her damp bangs are sticking to her forehead.

"You… " Serena breathes out through her enigmatic smirk, "you told me to…" she tries again but has to swallow. That glass of water is definitely required.

Bernie fetches it from the nightstand, carefully hands it to her lover, even though the palm of her hand is sweaty. Serena drinks the water rapidly, hands the empty glass to Bernie's wobbly hand. Bernie decides not to bother with that glass and rushes to Serena's mouth. Her lips are cold from the water but oh so delicious. The kisses are sloppy and loving. Their mouths don't align perfectly but the affection is transparent. They both lack in vigour, too pleasantly tired.

Serena speaks first, finishes her sentence.

"You asked me to do as I usually do. Well I never m-m-masturbate with someone by my side, especially with someone as distracting and attractive as you are, Bernie..." she explains as manages to recover some strength. "so I had to start without you if I wanted it to work out. To really let go…" Serena elucidates, seriously and tenderly, while she places kisses here and there on Bernie's face and neck.

She is the most beautiful person in the universe and Bernie is infinitely proud of her lover and boundlessly appreciative.

"Th-thank you, Serena. That was… memorable. So exhilarating…You are incredible…" it is now Bernie's turn to close her eyes, depicturing each detail by heart, so glad of this recollection to cherish. Serena continues to kiss Bernie's incredibly hot skin.

"You did enjoy it?" Serena is not actually expecting an answer, but she is absolutely eager for a specific reaction.

"I'm dead chuffed, Campbell…" Bernie replies, keenness taking place as her body craves relief.

"I need proof of it, Wolfe" and Serena's wet hand slips down on Bernie's stomach, slides under the elastic of her panties.

"Of course, any-anything you'd want…" and Bernie holds on Serena's waist and shoulder for support.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued ? ;-)


End file.
